Stomach Book
by Literature Fool
Summary: This is the story of the girl who become a serial killer to read the next part of the story. This is my interpretation of the song by Namine Ritsu. I didn't have any names in here, because none were mentioned in the song and it felt wrong to add them now.


Stomach book

In a room filled with books stacked high enough to fill a library, there was a boy. He sat in a desk, continuously writing. There were papers oozing from it, what he wrote, no one knew, but everyone loved what he wrote.

"Did you know that people fundamentally used book shelves to hide a tome?" he said to no one.

One day, he finally finished the story that he had wanted to write, and by using the devil's magic, he hid them only for the most superb readers to find and read.

"Saa, let's see who'll get the last book, ne!" and out he walked of the dark room.

* * *

I was just a normal girl. I was 17 and in my last year of high school. They said the ending is always the most cherished part, but I never understood that. The ending of a book always made me sad, not happy. I always did spend my days in the library; I was often there until closing time. That was a mistake.

One day, after leaving the library, I accidentally stumbled upon a site; a murder site.

The smell of the man was so bad that I'm surprised that no one found him till now. There was blood everywhere around him. There was a knife nearby him, and his stomach was wide open. I tried not to look at it, but the whole scene intrigued me. After killing someone, wouldn't you usually take the murder weapon with you so no one would find out you did it? Or did he kill himself, but then why did he?

Something out of the corner of my eye caught my interest. It was a black cat. It had the most unique eyes I had ever seen. It had the beautiful turquoise eyes that could see through you. But what was the cat in front of?

I move closer, my curiosity had always gotten the best of me in my younger days. It was a book. There was blood on it, but you could still read it. To this day, I don't know why I read it, but I don't regret it. It was the most amazing book I had ever read.

After I had finished, I was so moved by it. Were there more of them? Is that why the man got murdered? Did the book somehow come from his stomach? With these questions in my mind, I took the knife and the book to find more of them. I was possessed by the idea of stomach books, where could I find more of them, I wonder. I will find all of them and read them. With that promise, I took off on my journey. For some reason, the cat followed me. I didn't care.

I searched and searched for the books, but I didn't have a clue on where to find them. Why was it that the dead man had the book? Was there something special about him? Then I found the answers to my questions.

* * *

In an abandoned church I was resting at, I found him. No; more like he found me. I was re-reading the book I had found, it was just so good. I had memorized it, but I read it over and over again. I was happy, and then I heard a voice.

"Give me the book" it scared me so much that I grabbed hold of the cat beside me. Then I saw the source of the voice. It was a man in his 20's. He was dressed like a DJ, and wearing a very baggy shirt. But what was peculiar about him was the mark on his chest. It looked like a dragon intertwining itself, but it was glowing blue.

"Since you've seen this mark," he pointed to it. "That must mean you know that the only ones with these marks possess the books. So hand that book and yours over too me"

He didn't know that I didn't have a mark. How do you get a mark? But before I could ask, he charged at me. He grabbed my face, he didn't see my knife. I hid it inside my skirt so no one could see it, and good thing too. I took the knife our and I stabbed him, right in the chest. He stopped trying to hurt me. He coughed up so much blood, but then at last, he stopped moving. The mark that was there earlier also faded away. Did the marks disappear with their lives? Then I realize it.

He said the ones with the blue mark have the books; that must mean he has one! I stab his stomach, ignoring the sickeningly smell of the blood, I drag the knife down his stomach. After the blood had been drained, I saw it. It was another book. I immediately grab it and start to read it. Amazing, I was hooked. There has to be more, but who has the mark? Is it people who have read the books? Does that mean I have one? I check myself, it doesn't help that there's blood everywhere.

I take off my clothes and check. Nothing. I sigh and go clean my clothes.

I did nothing wrong, I just wanted to read. The man had it coming, what I did was alright. Yes, it's alright to kill them for the books; they'll do the same to me. I should leave the books here for now though. Where would the next book be?

With cranial nerves, I go to a book store. I was sweating hard, how do I ask about the books without telling anyone? I open the door, I see a lady, she says hello. She must know that I've read the books! I jump at her and stab her. I check her stomach; there's nothing there. Where are they!

I just want to read. I just want to see. It doesn't matter if I leave a trail of corpses behind me, I just want the books. Is that so wrong?

* * *

One evening, after I had travelled far and wide that I didn't know where I was anywhere; I found another one of them. I took him by surprise and easily got the book. There was still blood everywhere. It was good that I was beside a river. I could wash the blood away easily. I take relief that no one saw me, but I spoke too soon.

"If words could kill, now wouldn't that be wonderful?" the voice says playfully. I look up to see a man probably a little older than me. He has blond hair, a Cheshire cat smile, and the most beautiful blue eyes. They looked like the black cat's stunning eyes. All in all, he was a striking man.

He came down and stood right in front of me. That was strange, I couldn't move. He took off my red glasses, why didn't I stop him?

"That's right now; you wouldn't want to kill the author of those beloved books of yours, ne?" What did he say?

"That's right I should explain to you who I am.

* * *

It was him; the devil itself. But he was also God.

He was the mastermind who created the books, and somehow implanted them into people's stomachs. The called him the devil author. He explains to me that he's tired after being sought after the media. He sounded so sad that I couldn't help but believe him.

"In order for you to read my works, I wouldn't frown upon a few murders" and then I knew I was being manipulated.

"I'll tell you the location of the books if you want. I want a reader who's the best" I didn't care though. He was going to tell me of all the locations of the books. That was l ever wanted.

I don't care if I'm played; I just want to read a few more pages.

* * *

The next location was in a famous hotel. I was nervous at first when I found out that the next target was performing in front of so many people. He was a well-known magician who performed to people, and this hotel was one of the places he did.

As soon as laid my eyes on him, I didn't see the mark, but I knew I had him. Killing him in front of so many people was reckless, but to hell with it.

* * *

We were in the hotel rooms that he had rented. Apparently, besides time, he had money to spare. Countless times he had offered me some new clothes, but I was fine with my school uniform. I didn't need anything else except for the books.

The book was so good. It had me on my knees in tears. Just amazing. As I was reading the final pages of it, he suddenly comes up behind me and pulls the collar of my shirt down. I try and protest, but then I see it.

The mark.

"You already know, the last book is inside of you. What will you do now?" I was in front of the mirror, and he had a smaller mirror in his hand. The mark had always been on my neck, covered by my medium length brown hair. No wonder I had never seen it. The last book was inside of me. Could I still read it?

I shakily get up, so does he. I go to the bed that was there and sat down and unbuttoned my shirt. I didn't care that he was right behind me, his eyes going over my body. I just wanted to read. I steady the knife, and then I thrust it towards me.

It hurts so much. I was cowering on the ground, my own blood pooling around me. I take out the book from my stomach. It hurts so much, but I was almost there.

I open the book, my eyes widen. There were only two sentences in there there.

"_Congratulations, you are the most superb reader in the world. Now will you get the last book?_

I look up, even though my eyesight is going blurry, I can still make out the figure with the mark. He had the mark on his chest. He spread out his arms, and with nothing but a persistent smile. The man had it.

I want to read, I want to see. Nothing will stop me from reading the next part of the story.

With all the strength I can muster, I leap towards him and stab him in the stomach. Why isn't he resisting? He did all of this for me, just so I could kill him? Why is he doing this, I was content with the books, but most of all I was content with his smiles.

I can't read, I can't see.

We were both on the floor. That's strange, why is he hugging me? The warmth from both of our bodies is fading.

That was our story. Will anyone ever find the last book? I wonder, but we'll both be watching from who knows where.

"Saa, let's go" is all he says. Whatever, he'll just have to tell me the end of the story. Only he can.


End file.
